


Flutter

by Vitanitas



Series: Moths and Hearts [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Extremis, M/M, Mental Instability, mostly Iron Man 3 compliant, set after Iron Man 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-27 00:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vitanitas/pseuds/Vitanitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki transforms into a swarm of moths and escapes, Tony catches one and keeps it in a jar on his desk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flutter

**Author's Note:**

> The art for this is by the lovely Tamflakes and can be found [{here}](http://tamflakes.tumblr.com/post/61780216756/guys-it-is-done-i-hereby-proudly-present-to-you) as well as in links in the story~

 

 

Moth wings flutter as an echo to a fading heartbeat. Cold, unmoving hands enclose them like a ribcage, shielding them from fire, smoke and the distant wail of sirens. Then there is light and the press of lips, and for a moment, the world falls away. 

 

 

 

\--*--

Tony Stark is a man whose life has revolved around certainties and gambles. From the certainty that Stark Industries didn't double deal, to the gamble that Yinsen and him would have those few extra seconds to escape the cave to the certainty that he would not survive the wormhole, Tony learned that not everything was concrete. But still he relied on his science, on the certainty of his mind and the laws of physics that would know what to do when the time came.

So it’s quite disconcerting, and stuns him really, when both these proceed to fail him for what should be a simple task.

He’s been chasing the god for the past hour; the others still busy with Loki’s spell of the week. He keeps at a distance, enough that Loki won’t attack, but close enough that he won’t lose sight of him either. They twist and turn through the filthy city streets, the sun disappearing behind the horizon and painting the sky with the dusty veil of twilight. Loki remains always a few steps ahead, but Tony knows New York better than Loki, cornering him is simple.

It’s a classic dark alley way they end up in, trash and rubbish strewn across the ground, three walls trapping the God of mischief with Iron Man. Green eyes flash, goading him as he walks closer. In his earpiece he hears the orders from Shield, but ignores them, concentrating on what’s before him. The math runs through his head, Loki’s speed and strength and exactly how to counteract those so he can grab him.

But Loki is fluid, incapable of being a fixed element in any equation. He is matter that can go from solid, to an explosion of black wings that disperse and fly into the night by the time Tony reaches him.

His gauntlet grasps empty space where a god had just been, around him a tornado of tiny black wings makes their way to the sky. Numbly, Tony reaches out a hand-

…and catches one.

In the spaces between his fingers wings move frantically, unable to escape. He cradles it in his gauntlet, careful not to squeeze and to keep his repulsors off. He should let it go- or crush it or something. But instead, he keeps it. Walks all the way to the tower with it protected in his armored hands.

He's not sure why.

\--*--

Loki loves to fly, to separate each part himself and give them the means to float amongst the air; to enjoy the simple bliss and freedom of flight. The pieces of him that are askew and broken are soothed by the movement, by the feel of the wind along their silky wings.

Yes, Loki loves to fly, even in a sky as pitiful as Midgard’s, filled with its constant noise and birds, its pollution and heat. It’s a seamless expanse of atmosphere, with no remaining scars of the portal that once ripped apart the sky to let an army through.

Midgard’s hazy twilit sky disappears as Loki’s mind whirls at the memory, and he feels himself fall. The stars and darkness and the sheer void of the universe race pass him as he falls. He can’t stop, no matter how hard he tries to grab on to one of Yggdrasils many branches; they slip through his hands and cut him to ribbons. He feels himself falling apart.

He thinks to himself, not for the first time, that perhaps he shouldn’t have let go.

A car horn blares violently, and Loki is wrenched back from the void. The cloud of moths Loki now finds himself as move just in time to avoid becoming a large black smear on a pacing bus. Collectively, the moths shake themselves, and fly a bit higher.

They make their way across the New York skyline, a splatter of ink against the starless expanse of dusk. In an abandoned woody area of central park, the moon is briefly eclipsed by the cloud of a thousand small black wings. In the air they twirl and circle; their formation malformed and erratic. For a moment, all wings stop moving, moths floating to the ground as if struck dead from poison, before once more rising up, flying together so fast it makes the branches moves around them. The wings fly closer and closer, coalescing into the shape of a man.

Loki stumbles from where he has reformed, hand to his chest and wheezing. He shakes of the memory, attempts to right himself but he can’t. His body feels wrong, worse than the usual ache of his misaligned pieces. Wet, hacking coughs wreck his body. He brings a hand to his lips, and it comes back red with blood.

"...damn."

\--*--

The most difficult part was finding a jar. Tony didn't actually have any jars, so he put the thing in an overturned iron man helmet while he began designing a suitable container. If he was going to keep it, he might as well study it, right? Besides, Tony was still pissed off from Loki’s science-defying stunt.

Soon enough he had a container about the size of a mason jar, its lid doubling as a source of ventilation and a scanner. It took considerably gentle movements to move the butterfly/moth thing (Tony wasn't sure) into its new home. Tony might have freaked out internally when its wings and tiny legs touched his bear skin, but the insect was placed inside the glass unharmed.

"Jarvis, begin initial scans." he leans back in his desk chair, watching the jar in front of him as Jarvis begins his diagnostics. Blue light moves across the contents of the jar, and the collected data appears on one of his displays. "Tell me Jarv, moth or butterfly?"

"The subject does not appear to be any known Lepidoptera species."

"Figures..." Tony nudges the jar with a finger; the insect moves its legs a bit in response.

"Subject appears to be pure energy; signature matches that of Loki Laufeyson."

That comes as no surprise. “What should I call you then?” The moth looks at him blankly, with huge round eyes. “Lokifly, Mothki?" he snickers, while Jarvis gives a mechanical sigh.

"Your wit is astounding, sir."

\--*--

The moth is a good companion. Doesn’t sass Tony or spray him with the fire extinguisher. It stays in its little [custom jar and crawls or flits about](http://tamflakes.tumblr.com/post/61781702454/and-another-tiny-incentive-you-guys-should). He keeps the jar on his desk in the lab, not wanting to keep something of Loki’s in his bedroom or somewhere where one of the others might ask questions. Sometimes, when Tony talks to it, (because Tony talks to everything in his lab) it will twitch its wings or tilt its little moth head.

Apparently it doesn’t need to eat or drink. Tony tried giving it certain flowers and such, but it barely reacted, poked the stem with a foreleg then went back to flying around in its confined space.

"Sir, the subject is not a real moth." Jarvis intones helpfully.

Tony hmmed and left the flower in the jar just in case. The bouquet of the rest he had Dum-e put in a vase. This of course ended up in two shattered vases and Tony having to get up and do it himself.

Weeks pass and Loki never shows up for the moth, neither does it disappear like the rest of his illusions. Tony figures it’s not that important to him, or he just hasn’t noticed it’s missing.

He keeps tracks of its readings each day, but they don’t change much. Bruce could probably help Tony study the slight radiation that Mothki gives off; maybe use it to track the god of mischief, but Tony finds himself shying away from the idea. Tony isn’t really inclined to share his stuff, plus poking and prodding at Mothki might cause its form to destabilize.

Tony likes to think of it as a souvenir from the God of Mischief, his own little sample of magic. Besides, it was a pretty cute little moth, wings as black as motor oil, with strange green markings that reflected the light in his lab. It made an interesting sight on his desk, in comparison to all the steel and blue of the tech around it. Something so archaic and mysterious in the midst of his modernized safe heaven.

“Check this out.” He manipulates a hologram in front of the jar, an inner mechanism of his latest suit, “See if I do this, the movement should be smoother…”

Twin antennas give a slight twitch.

“You’re right. It might become compromised in battle. But what if-”

“Sir, there is Shield activity nearby.”

Tony releases the hologram, instantly interested. Jarvis still has his figurative hands in Shields mainframe, and it certainly pays off. Plus it annoys the fuck out of Fury.

“What are they up to this time?” He pushes the jar back to it’s usual place, a few inches away from his keyboard, out of danger of falling off the desk.

“A low level alert concerning Loki Laufeyson.”

Interesting. Tony grabs his nearest suitcase and heads for the coordinates Jarvis gives him. Low level alerts for the god of mischief occurred a lot more than the higher ones lately; and were almost guaranteed to be entertaining.

Loki hadn't been the same since escaping from prison in Asgard. Come to think of it, they weren't sure how he escaped. When Tony asked how he escaped, Thor wore a guilty frown and said he didn’t know.

Anyway, Loki didn't seem to want to rule the world anymore. He just enjoyed making mayhem and watching the Avengers run around trying to stop whatever it was he was doing. Most of the time it was just (mostly) harmless pranks, making it rain ice cream or the exploding pigeon debacle from last week when he was feeling destructive. Some days he found new spells, new weapons or partners and rained chaos from the skies, but there were other times where he just... acted strange.

He would wander the city, as if lost or possessed, almost getting hit by cars or asking people where he is. By the time Shield gets to the scene Loki is gone or has returned to reality enough to get away or attack. Those days became more and more frequent, by far overtaking his destructive days. It was disconcerting to all involved.

He once showed up at Avengers mansion, demanding to see his brother. He called Thor his brother. The Thunderer almost burst into tears. Loki had shown up at their door in his more casual Aseir leathers, face eager and innocent. Apparently he wanted to show Thor a new illusion.

A tiny firework burst between his hands and fell to the ground in a soft flurry of snowflakes.

The Avengers had all watched from the doorway, Clint keeping an arrow notched and directed at Loki’s eye, but the god didn’t seem to notice them. Tony thought it was beautiful really, and was eager to know how Loki did it, asking him a thousand questions a minute. Loki nodded at Tony’s questions, but his attention stayed with Thor, gazing up at his brother expectantly.

Thor had put a hand on Loki’s shoulder and told him it was wonderful, blue eyes a whirlpool of emotion. Loki smiled at him –honest to god smiled- before apparently snapping out of whatever had come over him. His open expression became a scowl, and swatted Thor’s hand off him before disappearing in a flash of gold light.

The next day he made a blizzard that covered Manhattan for three weeks. In July.

Since then, Shield and the Avengers orders regarding Loki were to apprehend Loki and return him to Asgard. Not much different than before, but pressure from Asgard was being put on them all to retrieve the god of mischief as soon as possible.

"I'm looking for something."

"Yes Loki, you've said that ten times now," Maria Hill is not nearly the patient soul agent Coulson is, but seeing as he was visiting his cellist friend at the moment, Hill was probably the best Shield could do, "What are you looking for?" She cranes her neck upwards where Loki is precariously balancing on the edge of a small office building, in full armor no less. Every once in a while he crouches and runs his hands along the roof, not unlike someone whose dropped a contact lens. "I'm looking for-" Loki stops his frantic movements for a moment to look back down at Hill. It’s a bit hard to tell from where Tony is standing, but he’s pretty sure Loki is scowling, as if just realizing who he's been speaking to for the past twenty minutes, "It matters not what I'm looking for! It is of no concern of yours, wretch."

Tony sees Hill's fingers twitch at her side, as if itching to whip her gun out and fire a few rounds at Loki. What good it would do, other than scare the already nervous onlookers and maybe piss Loki off. He might seem harmless in this state, but he could snap out of it and start blowing shit up at any moment.

According to a newbie Shield agent, Loki had been up there for awhile, apparently scaring bystanders who recognized him, while others who didn’t feared for his safety.

Loki goes back to crawling along the edge of the building, muttering to himself and casting a murderous glare at Hill and the other Shield agents below. Sighing, Tony nudges the rebuilt Mark V case at his feet. The Avengers hadn't actually been called out on this one, but it was nearby the tower anyway. Usually Thor is called out when Loki's having one of his episodes, but he was called back to Asgard the night before.

"What're you doing?" Hill sounds annoyed and resigned, a common occurrence around Tony.

"Going up there." He maneuvers the chest plate on. "With no Thor and you making such fantastic progress, I figured I might as well give it a try."

"Wait," Steve says walking up to Hill and Tony, in sweat pants and a T-Shirt and smelling like sweat, probably coming from an early morning run, "Let me try."

Hill hands him the loudspeaker she was using and after a few moments of explanation of how to work it, he lifts and points it at the god on the roof.

"Loki-”

"Fuck off, Captain America."

Tony tries to stifle a laugh while Steve hands the loudspeaker back to Hill and sighs. Steve, out of all of them, was the one who went the most out of his way to help people, his intentions nothing but genuine. He didn’t deserve Tony laughing at him… But it was pretty funny. Loki had even flipped him off when he said it.

Hill shouts at him not to mess up and piss Loki off as he fires up his repulsors and flies up to where Loki crouches on the roof. He hovers at about eye level to Loki, his movements a bit unstable- the Mark V isn't the best suit for flying in, but it was the closest one at hand and needed a test drive.

"Go away Stark, I'm busy." Loki doesn’t even glance at him; just keeps scouring along the roof for whatever it is he's looking for.

"Don't be like that, Loki-kins." Tony gets a death glare for that, which is a lot less threatening with how ridiculous Loki looks, but otherwise no response. Moving closer, he scans the roof for anything Loki might be interested in. "...Seriously what are you looking for? There's nothing up here."

Loki stills. The early morning sun glints of his armor, the backdrop of empty sky a poor comparison from the last time Tony faced him on a roof. He sits back on his heels boots crunching on gravel. Frowning, he looks at his hands, filthy with dust and grime from crawling around on the roof. Green eyes find brown behind the mask, empty and dull.

"...no, there's not."

Silence descends on them as Loki goes back to staring at his hands, with an expression Tony can only describe as melancholy. He watches him awhile, before deciding that the arc reactor has probably had enough strain from the flight, and maneuvers the suit so he's sitting on the edge of the roof with Loki. Lacking any reaction from the god, Tony swings his legs back and forth like a kid and attempts to pick up conversation. Or negotiations. Whichever.

"...soooo," Tony starts, not entirely sure what he was going to do once he was up here anyway, "Want to surrender to Shield now?"

Loki stops staring at his hands long enough to give Tony a look.

"Okay, I didn't really think you would want to, but honestly, I don't know what else to do now.... Well, we could watch Shield down there doing nothing and laugh I guess, but that’s probably going to get boring real quick."

"Truly Stark, you are the epitome of creative ideas." Loki drawls, looking off into the distance tiredly.

"Hey, I’m not the one crawling around on roofs looking for... whatever the hell you’re looking for.” Loki's glare is sharp, a warning, but Tony has never been good at watching his mouth, "Face it Loki. You're losing it. You should go home before Shield starts breaking out the straitjackets."

Green eyes are poison boring into his skull, and the god is in his face and Tony doesn’t remember flipping the visor up but it is, "At least, in my madness Stark,” He hisses, “I have not drowned myself in drink, being so utterly and pathetically lost that I piss in my armor in jest, and panic and shiver in the corner as I lose my lover to her valet."

Tony didn’t need that shoved in face and he feels the blow like a punch to the gut. "Look," he says through gritted teeth, "We can stay up here all day and have this pissing contest over who’s more pathetic, or you can kindly fuck off...why haven't you even left yet? Disappear or turn into a cloud of pretty butterflies like last time?"

Loki settles back onto the ledge away from Tony, looking out over the city now, expression unreadable. He opens his mouth to speak- right as an explosion rocks the building.

Tony’s hands fly to Loki’s waist, grabbing hold just in time to save him from toppling over the edge. Sirens blare above the sounds of screams; below the small group of Shield personnel and Steve are picking themselves off the ground. Tony lets go and points a repulsor at Loki, who merely raises an eyebrow.

"I assure you, that was not my doing."

"Right," He flips the mask back down, Jarvis’ readings pinpointing the origin of the explosion, not far from where the Shield van was parked. Hill is barking orders below as she helps one of the junior agents to his feet. “Jarvis, do we have a source of the explosion?"

"Sir, readings indicate the explosion has a similar radius and heat signature as that of an unstable extremis soldier."

"Shit." He lowers his arm and starts hovering off the roof. The Mark V is definitely not a suit built to fight extremis. Shit shit.

"I will take that as my cue to leave then." Loki makes a little mock bow as he backs away from Tony.

"Listen reindeer games, coincidence or not, Shield’s going to-", he looks back to where Loki was standing to find nothing but empty air, "-aaand you’re gone. Great." He flies back down to the commotion of Shield and two very glowy and pissed-off looking guys. Oh, that’s gonna be fun.

"How'd it go?" Steve asks as he moves into a battle stance.

"Peachy, Cap." He fires up his repulsors at the two soldiers, "Just peachy."

\--*--

He slips out of the shadow of a nearby building, his chest nothing but pain as he leans against the wall for support. Bending his form is almost impossible now, he can’t retain it for long and it pains him when he does. His body is rejects the change, making his typically seamless escapes almost impossible to achieve. Not far off, the sounds of battle and the terrified screams of bystanders can be heard.

“You’re L-Loki, right?” A figure approaches him, movements weary and uncertain.

Loki glances at the man, not very tall, filthy clothes and a nervous twitch. “I suggest you leave now, mortal, before you become a smear on the ground you stand on.”

"I think you'll find I'm a bit harder to kill than most," the man laughs, high pitched and on the verge of hysterics. His eyes seem to glow, and he is giving off an odd heat. “They said we need you.”

"Come to try and make a deal with the eccentric god, are we?" Loki sneers, pulling himself to his full height. The man is strange; Loki has never seen a mortal whose flesh glows like lava, as if from Muspelheim itself.

The man says nothing, but his eyes are desperate, and his body more. He pulls out a syringe with a hand that is not currently on fire, and advances on Loki, as if he was an actually threat.

It would amuse Loki really, if he wasn't already worn out. As it stands, he is in no mood to deal with this. "You know not who you trifle with," the shadows coalesce around Loki, the alleyway soon pitch black behind him, the tendrils of darkness reaching for the man as he backs away, fear clear in his eyes. The man still hasn't left yet though, so Loki lets frost climb the walls, and his eyes bleed red as he steps towards the man.

The man drops everything and runs screaming, the light of his skin flaring more than it was before. Loki breaks the syringe with his boot.

Loki melts into the shadows once more, making sure not to stop until he reached his dwelling, not wanting to be found again.

An explosion echoes in the distance.

 --*--

The battle was difficult and in the end, the extremis soldiers that didn’t explode got away, Shield not being prepared with anything that could contain them. Tony limps into the lab; the new Mark V singed and battered. Just as well, he shouldn't be trying to remake old work anyway.

"Sir, Miss Potts wishes to know if you're alright."

"Yeah, yeah," the Mark V retracts from his skin as his assets the damage to his person, "Tell her I'm fine and I'll make it to dinner with her and Happy. Probably." His right shoulder doesn’t feel so great, where a particularly handsy extremis had tried to melt his armor, "Maybe. Don't make any promises."

"Will do, sir."

He grabs an ice pack and some burn ointment (experience has led him to having a decent stock of those in the lab) and relaxes at his desk while Jarvis brings up the data from the battle.

Tony groans at the data. He thought the death of Killian would have brought an end to extremis. It must be a copycat, or someone from AIM who flew under the radar. In any case, this line of extremis still isn’t perfect, and the soldiers seemed less trained than the ones he fought before. Whoever is creating the new extremis has obviously altered the virus; the explosions not as catastrophic like AIMs were, but the soldiers just as, if not more, unstable.

In its jar on his desk, the moth flutters its wings to Tony in what could only be assumed as a greeting. Its tiny legs touch the glass in front of it for a moment before going back to its usual neutral position in the jar. The reading above its display show a few influxes of energy since Tony left.

"You know little guy," Tony says as he eases off his shirt to get a better look at his shoulder, "The rest of you is a dick," he sighs, "a crazy, crazy dick. Let’s look at these readings, hm?"

\--*--

The dark abyss of space fills his senses as he falls and becomes all he knows beyond the fear and ache and pain.

He lands eventually, or he is caught, he’s not sure. The fall leaves him disoriented, incoherent and those who find him take advantage. Creatures who want his magic; they can smell it on him, he is sure, though they don’t attempt to communicate. They come too close, ghastly faces crowding him as he tries to move away, but is too broken to do so. They paw at him, take him and try to put his pieces together wrong, forcing the shapes back in like incompetent children with a puzzle.

Eventually, they drag him to someone else, someone who can speak, who is intelligent enough to know they could use the fallen prince. Loki lies on a rock in the middle of a sea of black and foreign stars. His would-be employer speaks of Death and purpose. They strike a deal, for all that Loki knows he lacks options, and he feels the deal is not so bad. A throne, an army of his abusers to obey his every command, and a chance to destroy the world that Thor loves.

It is a chance at least.

 --*--

There is a dwelling on Midgard, a sparsely furnished apartment on 44th street, it is not quite home, for Loki has no home, but it is close enough. It’s kept cool and dark; curtains and carefully placed spells keep out the worse of the city noise and light. A shadow slips through these windows, the wards placed there recognizing their creator and letting it pass. The shadow flows onto the floor, where it writhes and twists, eventually fades away and Loki is once again on the ground, clutching his chest.

Loki hates to move by shadow. It brings his already unstable mind to dark places, but at the moment can not be helped.  
His hands find the wall and he pushes himself up, leaving grimy handprints in his wake. Tea, he thinks as he makes his way to the small kitchenette, water, something to wash the metal taste from his mouth. He sets the kettle to boil and finds bottled water in the fridge, the cool liquid welcome in his throat. He notices after, as he looks through the bottle at the distorted vision of his hand, that it is stained with blood and grime.

The kettles hiss grows to a crescendo while he stares at his hands, its screaming, jolting Loki from his reverie. With a flick of his wrist his hands and his wall are clean, and his armor changed for his more casual leathers. The stove is turned off and tea is left to steep, as Loki tries to set his mind right.

What am I looking for?

There is pain in his chest, and emptiness and fluttering, a constant a dull ache. When he shifts it pains him, like trying to rebuild something with a missing fundamental piece.

Oh.

A piece of him, yes, he remembers now. But where…? He remembers flying. Hundreds of him, small wings at the mercy of the air around him, but with the power to change the universe, and he was flying. Up and up, the sky as dark as his wings and he wanted to be lost in that dark, melt into it. And yet it freighted him, the thought of the endless void above him. But he wanted up, not down, not to fall, he wanted to fly. So he went up and-

Ah. He sees now.

Loki smiles ruefully at himself. It's pathetic, really, how his mind and body move without him now. Going back and trying to remember why is mortifying and terrifying both, but has to be done to place his mind back before it was lost in its episode. Slowly, he's begun to resign himself to it and perhaps that’s even more alarming.

So he went to the roof, many roofs in fact, hoping to find the missing piece. Why in full armor was beyond him, probably a force of habit. Prolonged disconnection will have worse effects than just his inability to change form, so his urgency to find it was not uncalled for. Losing it was a rookie’s mistake, something any shape changer would mock him for. He needs to connect to it.

Closing his eyes, he concentrates. The familiar smell of tea and the soft sounds of his apartment disappears as his mind reaches out; searching.

\--*--

The moth is visibly vibrating, its little legs frantically trying to climb their way out of the jar. The readings were going nuts, energy spiking and falling at a dizzying pace.

“Jarvis, what’s going on?!”

“Unknown sir. The subject’s energy is fluctuating, it’s mass and density changing as well.”

“Shit!” By the time Tony reaches the jar the poor thing is throwing itself against the glass walls, over and over again “Hey don’t do that!” Tony watches helplessly as it continues to smash itself against its prison, moving the jar a bit across his desk even.

Slowly, the moth’s attempts at escaping become weaker and weaker. Its body stops vibrating and its energy readings become dangerously low. It stills at the bottom of the jar, wings giving a final weak flutter.

“Sir, subject’s energy has dropped to 1% of its normal readings.”

“Shit, shit!” Without thinking Tony picks up the jar and unscrews the cap.

“Sir, it may not be wise to-“  
“You said the energy was harmless, it’s fine.” He tips the jar and the moth slides down the glass onto his palm. It feels just like any other insect Tony muses, holding in his gauntlet before hadn’t allowed him to actually touch it. It gives off a slight warmth, and his palm tingles a bit, but otherwise it seems fine.

“Hey little guy,” he says, cupping the still moth in both hands close to his chest. “It’s going to be okay. Really, I’ll make you a bigger, better jar. Like the Stark Tower of jars, it’ll be great. Look- here’s the super expensive flowers I got you. Well I made Pepper get them, but you know. Nice and pretty right?” He holds it up to the flowers like a child, a wing twitches slightly and Tony beams.

Holding the moth close, he continues telling it soothing nonsense, it’s antennae twitching in acknowledgement, the arc reactor giving a strange glow to its wings. Eventually, Mothki begins moving like usual and starts crawling around in Tony’s hands, but it doesn’t make any moves to fly away.

“You were just getting a little stir crazy weren’t you? I get like that too.” Tony grins, moving back to the jar, “I’m going to put you back in, ok? I want to check your readings.” It seems a bit reluctant to leave Tony’s hand, but it doesn’t go nuts once it’s back in the jar.

“Energy readings are back to normal sir, and you do not seem to be displaying any adverse reactions to touching the energy source.”

Tony eyes the jar, his little captive slowly beating its wings and poking one of the petals of a flower with its foreleg before settling in to rest on top of it.

\--*--

The connection is weak, but there. The piece is not too far, but something is stopping it from reaching him. He calls to it, asks it to come back to him. It tries, and the effort hurts, the need to be whole fighting with the barrier that separates them. It builds and builds until Loki blacks out, the loss too much.

He feels cold and alone and it’s not all that different from falling. He wonders if he’ll ever stop falling, if it’s all endless nothingness once more. Then it changes.

There is warmth, as though he is being cradled, and soothing murmurs, although he can’t understand what’s being said. There is the scent of something sweet, and it’s nice. Slowly he stops falling, the void slipping away as a dreamless sleep finds him.

\--*--

Tony was running late to the meeting and Pepper was going to kill him, but that was pretty much a given. Really, even though the meeting was being held in Stark tower where he was currently living, it didn’t necessarily mean that he had to be there 24/7. Technically, he didn’t personally need to go out and buy new flowers for Mothki to try either, but hey, he needed some fresh air anyway.

He was on his way back to the tower, a bouquet of fancy (gourmet) flowers in hand, when something caught his attention, or someone actually. Sitting at one of the outside tables of a café was none other than Loki. He was sporting casual (but fashionable) clothes and sipping a latte, uneaten muffin on the table next to him. No one around him was panicking; so either Loki had some sort of spell up or no one recognized him out of the pointy helmet. He was obviously lost in thought because he didn’t notice Tony sitting in the chair across from him until he spoke up.

“Hey princess!”

Loki doesn’t startle, much to Tony’s disappointment, but he does snap back to earth, green eyes watching Tony suspiciously.

“Stark.”

“Come on,” Tony says as he plops the bouquet on the table and signals a waitress, “I thought after our roof adventure we’d be past last names. Speaking of, how are you feeling today? ”  
Loki glares at him while the waitress takes Tony's order.

"Will that be all Mr. Stark?" She asks, looking a little nervous.

"And another latte for my friend here." He sends her a little wink as she walks away and giggles.

"So," he says once she's gone. "What are you doing?"  
"Drinking a latte." Loki raises an eyebrow, styrofoam cup raised to his lips.

"You know what I mean."

Loki releases a put upon sigh, "I am not 'plotting' anything if that is what you are asking." He does air quotes and everything, "I am enjoying a midgardian beverage and not maiming or killing anyone."

Loki pauses, suddenly looking nervous. He stares down at the cup in in his hands, "…and I'm looking for something."

Tony leans forward, eager to know, and asks softly, "What are you looking for?"

Loki brings a hand to his chest protectively, green eyes far off, soft and searching, "...it’s..."

"It’s?" Tony prompts.

"My..." Loki blinks, green eyes clear and focused again. "It's none of your concern, Stark," he snarls, entire body tense with anger.  
Tony pouts, put off that he still doesn’t know what Loki's been looking for. Something Loki went to so much trouble for is bound to be important, even dangerous. But he drops the subject for now, seeing as how it looks like Loki wants to strangle him with his tie. And not in the sexy way.

"C'mon Loki, really, you could call me something other than that. I mean, we know each other so well now."  
Loki looks at him, body relaxing and his mouth forming a smirk filled with mischief, "Of course, my apologies. We are close acquaintances now are we not?" He leans closer to Tony, leaning over the table to practically purr in his ear, "What should I call you then? Man of Iron, Anthony? Tony?" he leans in closer, breath ghosting over his, and Tony has to repress a shiver, "Mr. Stark?"

Tony swallows, damn that voice, "…Tony. Tony is fine. Or, you know what? Stark was good. Let's stick with that."

Loki laughs, and Tony can smell the bitter scent of coffee. “Oh? Is the legendary Tony Stark intimidated by my voice?”

Oh no. Two can play that game. “Well,” he says and presses his mouth closer to Loki’s ear, “Personally, I’d love to hear your voice say my name in a very different way.”

Loki visibly shivers. Ah ha.

“To have the audacity to say that to a god,” Loki breathes, “Interesting…”

He's still close, and Tony’s about to make another quip (or a flirtation or a threat; he’s never really sure what will come out of his mouth), when his phone blares out Lady Gaga.

They jump apart clumsily, whatever mood they had been in instantly ruined. Loki leans back in his chair trying to look indifferent and unaffected as Tony searches his pockets for his phone.

“Hey Pep-”

“ANTHONY EDWARD STARK.”

“Pep-”

“DON’T YOU PEP ME. Where are you?! The meeting started 40 mintues ago!”

“I-”

“Just get here. Now!” She hangs up, and if she hadn’t been using a smart phone, she probably would have slammed it down on the receiver.

Tony sighs, “Sorry Lokes, got a meeting to run to,” He stands, reaching for his drink and the flowers. He should probably tell Shield where Loki is. But he’s not actually doing anything, so…

He glances down at the god, who hasn’t said anything. He has that strange far-off look on his face again. Tony frowns,

“Here.” The bouquet of flowers is shoved into Loki’s face.  
Startled, the god slowly takes them from him.

“What…?”

“Take ‘em. I can’t take them to the meeting with me.” He laughs, “Pepper would kill me if she thought I was trying to make it up to her with flowers or something.” Loki looks down at the flowers blankly. “…and I thought you might like them?”

He clears his throat. What was that? Loki, a known war criminal, did not want flowers.

Although, he thinks, he is a diva. Maybe he does.

But Loki was probably still in one of his not-all-there states. He studies the flowers a bit more, closes his eyes and smells them. If Tony didn’t know any better, he would have called it cute.

“Thank you.” The god looks up, a small smile lighting his face, “They are lovely.” And Tony’s heart does not do a little jump at that. Of course not. Crazy Loki is just creepy like that. Not cute. Or adorable. Creepy. Definitely creepy.

“Yeah, well… Bye.” Awkwardly he turns away, walking as fast as he can back to his tower. Loki may not be in the mood to kill him today, but Pepper certainly is.

\--*--

Loki stares off at Stark for a few moments, lost somewhere in his mind. He smells the flowers once more and remembers. This scent is familiar and he could smell it on Stark. The bouquet is almost snapped in half from how tightly Loki is gripping it.

Stark.

\--*--

The meeting was pretty boring, stock statistics and more of corporate trying to wheedle whatever ideas they could out of Tony, the usual. He was shoved into an Avengers meeting right after, less boring of course, but still tedious. Debriefing of the recent rise in extremis sightings.

“Still no Thor?” He asked as he took his seat.

“Still in Asgard.”

Tony and Bruce go over samples from the dead (and mostly exploded) soldiers, but research hasn’t brought up any promising information. All they know is that the virus is different, still imperfect, and maybe purposely designed that way.

It’d be better if they had a live subject, a sample still activated with the serum and someone they can let Natasha interrogate to figure out what the hell they want. They never announce their presence or their goals.

Tony tunes them out as they throw ideas around, and goes over designs for Mothki’s new jar in his head. At this point there wasn’t much to go on. They show up, there’s an explosion, the Avengers are called and all the soldiers end up in a hundred pieces across the streets of New York before anyone can get a straight answer out of them.

With no clear answers or leads, the meeting ends.

Making his way into his lab he stops by his desk to grab a tablet. He reaches for it, and notices something missing from his desk.  
“Jarvis, where-”

“Looking for something Stark?”

Tony whirls around and there’s Loki, casually walking towards him, jar in hand, in his lab.

“How did you get in here?” It shouldn’t be possible- his security is perfect.

“Easily.” He shifts the jar to the other hand and studies it moodily.

“Jarvis-”

“The house spirit? He is… indisposed at the moment.” Tony resists the urge to punch the smirk off the gods face. “Now, this contraption. Tell me how to open it.”

Tony eyes the god, the jar, and the black wings inside it.  
“No.”

Loki’s eyes harden, “Stark-“  
“No. That’s mine. Finders keepers.”

“Stark, this is no time for your stubborn greed. Open this device or I will smash it into your face.”

“No, you would’ve done that already,” Tony bluffs, “What makes you think, you can come in here and fuck with Jarvis?” Nobody messes with Jarvis. Nobody. “Why do you want it back so badly, anyway?”

“That is none of your concern Stark!” Loki’s pacing the floor, practically seething at Tony, “Open this device Stark!”

“No.” Tony stands his ground, staring the god down who seems to fray more and more each passing second.

“Why?” He snarls stalking closer to Tony, teeth bared and fist clenched.

The thing is, Tony doesn’t know why. He figures he’s gotten close to the little Moth in the jar, like all the other things in his workshop, like Dum-e, U and Jarvis. He doesn’t want to let it go and he knows its selfish and he knows it’s a part of Loki and he’s better off not having something like that in his workshop where it can blow any second or some crazy norse god is going to break in and fuck shit up. But he just… can’t. For some reason, Tony knows it’s his,and it’s more than just his ‘don’t take my stuff’ attitude.

“Because I want it.” He curses himself. Probably not the best thing to say Tony realizes after he blurts the words out. It sounds selfish and bratty to his own ears, and he deserves to have Loki smite him right there.

“You… want it?” Loki’s expression morphs into shock, but surprisingly enough, not offense. It’s more like disbelief, and something of awe. His grip relaxes, and he holds the jar carefully in both hands, “You actually want this?”

Tony nods, fearing his mouth will say something stupid once more. Loki studies him for a few moments. His expression turns hard, glaring at Tony and clutching the jar to his chest.

“Why?!” He snarls, “Why do you want it? So you can perform experiments on it? Rip its wings apart, vivisect its body and see how it works, so that you may rebuild it to do as you please?”

“No! That’s not it-“

He paces around Tony, the smooth timbre of his voice low and mocking, “Oh no. That’s not your ‘style’ as it were. No. You’d want the energy; want to duplicate it so it can power more of your machines. Drain it until it’s no more than a husk then replace it with one of its doubles.”

“No-”

“No of course that’s not it!” His laugh is manic and harsh, “You want to use it to track me. Like a hound chasing a fox! Then you can just use the source-”

“Loki stop!” he grabs Loki’s arm, halting his movement, “That’s not it.”

The god’s eyes are fever-bright, brimming with unshed tears as he turns to face Tony. He’s scared, Tony realizes.

“That’s not it,” He says again, softer.

“Then why?” it’s barely a whisper.

“Because,” Tony swallows, trying to pick the right words, “I got attached to it, you know? It… It’s important to me now. I know that sounds stupid and selfish, but I don’t want to lose it.”

They’re close, breathing the same air. Tony’s hand is still on Loki’s arm, and the other one is resting on the jar that’s still clutched to the god’s chest and he’s not sure when it got there. Green eyes search his, and the moment stretches on.

Loki smiles, soft and resigned.

“Very well.”

Tony blinks, “I…what?”

“I will gift this to you,” he hands Tony the jar, gently pushing it into his chest. Mindlessly, Tony takes it. “Congratulations, Tony Stark. This is not something I freely give to many.”

“Thank you?” Tony tries, confused at the gods change of heart, and his small, strange smile. “Is this ok?”

The god shakes his head. “It is fine.” Out of nowhere a hand is gently placed on the arc reactor glowing behind Tony’s shirt. “I just wish… I could have yours as well.”

Tony’s heart beats wildly in his chest, as the god stares at the arc, his eyes filled with want and sadness. Slowly, he takes his hand away, and Tony breathes.

“However, I think you are using it, at the moment.”

“Y-yeah.”

The god snaps his fingers, “I’ve returned you’re house spirit.”

“Sir, your guest-” Jarvis pipes up as Loki turns on his heel to leave.

“Leave it Jarv.” Tony orders as he watches Loki leave, boots making only the slightest sound against the workshop floor. Wordlessly, Jarvis opens the doors for him, and Loki turns a corner out of sight. Tony doesn’t follow.

\--*--

Thor comes back from Asgard a few days later. Grim faced and lacking any of his usual charm and cheerfulness, the team didn’t really know how to react when the Bifrost blasted him back to earth on the roof of Stark Tower. He looked at them, shook his head and headed to his room without a word.

The rest of the team leaves Thor alone, deciding to let the god relax from his stressful trip to Asgard. Tony, however, needs answers and finds himself knocking on Thor’s door not 20 minutes after he disappeared behind it. He has the jar, shifting it between his hands as he waits for Thor to open up. He hears some rustling and heavy footsteps before Thor opens the door. His boxers, bare skin and messy hair doing little to offset evident irritation on his face.

“What do you want, Man of Iron?” he grumbles.

“Hey Point-Break,” Tony slips in past Thor into the room, completely ignoring Thor’s muttered annoyance. He sits on Thor’s bed like he owns the place (he does) and sets the jar on the stand next to it. “We need to talk about your brother.”

The look he gives Tony is guarded, if not resigned, “What of my brother?”

“Look, I know, okay well I don’t know what’s going on, but I know something is going on with reindeer games, but you haven’t really told us-” Tony fumbles for words, deciding in the end to just spit it out. “Loki gave me this.”

He holds the jar out to Thor who eyes it for a second before warily taking it from Tony’s hands. This gives Tony the impression that gifts from Loki typically tend to explode in your face.

“This-” recognition blooms on the gods face, “This is… He gave this to you?” Thor looks, well, thunderous; protectiveness over Loki clearly the cause of his rising anger.

“Well, yeah. Do you know what is? My scans said it was energy but-”

“You let your machines molest this?!” Thor roars white knuckling the jar in a single hand, standing above Tony.

Tony backs up to the wall (effectively trapping himself on Thor’s bed like an idiot) hands raised placating, “Woah woah woah! It was harmless really! I didn’t hurt it or ‘molest’ it, I swear.” Thor doesn’t seem to believe him though, investigating the jar in his hand as if to check that Tony was telling the truth. Tony’s surprised the jar didn’t shatter in the gods hand.

Apparently finding no damning evidence on the moth, he sighs and sits on the bed next to Tony. Head bowed tiredly, the jar resting in his lap. “Forgive me Tony, it has been a trying time for me in Asgard and news of my brother always puts me on edge.”

Tony cautiously inches forward on the bed until he’s level with Thor again, “Hey, it’s okay. Heh, Loki gave me the same reaction actually.”

Thor gives him a weak grin, “Yes, I’m sure he did.”

“So…” Tony says after they’re silent for awhile, “Do you mind telling me what this is? Loki wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information when he gave it to me.”

Thor moves the jar in his hands, Tony thinks the moth doesn’t seem to happy with the motion, its little legs having to move faster to keep up with the movement of its prison. “It is… important to my brother. A piece of him, something he keeps closely guarded, and he would not give to anyone.”

Tony groans, “Do we have to be so cryptic? What is with you Asgardians and never giving a straight answer? Can’t you just-”

“It’s his heart.”

Tony’s breath catches in his throat “…what?”

“My brother has explained it to me once. When my brother changes shape or disperses himself, the different parts of him become those things, whether they are bits of light, magpies or moths. This piece of him, if I can read the runes on its wings right, is his heart.”

“Like his, literal blood-pumping heart or, like, the figurative one?” Tony was having a hard time wrapping his head around this. Seriously, how?

“Both, I suppose.”

Tony splutters at that “How, what? How is he-”

“It is still connected to my brother, so no, he is not dead from having this part of him removed. Although I am not sure how long he can safely remain detached from this part of him, and I know not how it will affect him or the rest of his magic. Forgive me, for I am not well versed in magic, but you must remember that gods are made differently than humans, Loki even more so.”

Thor pauses, watching the moth again in the jar. He hands it back to Tony.

“My brother is not well, Tony Stark. He has always been complicated, uneasy to read or approach, but still I have always loved him. Learning of his heritage, his fall from the Bifrost and whatever happened to him in the void has only done more to entangle the web my brother has made inside himself.”

Tony shudders at that, Thor has told him of Loki’s fall through space before. Tony remembers his fall as well, the unending universe, the darkness that plagued him with nightmares for months, still does sometimes. The nothingness, the uncaring stars and the air being pulled from his lungs as he falls. Tony understands how something like that could mess you up.

Thor pauses, words apparently difficult for him to say, “I released my brother from prison.”

Tony’s not surprised really. He figured Thor had a hand in it; the god wasn’t very subtle with his guilt.

Thor takes his silence as a sign to go on, “It was at the behest of our Mother. She could see Loki’s condition deteriorating more each day. Odin is absolute with his punishments, and Loki would not have been released until he learned whatever lesson my father wanted to teach him.” Thor growls, voice dripping with frustration, “My father wouldn’t see reason. Loki couldn’t repent because he was losing himself in that prison. That room was designed specifically to test my brother’s limits, to send him to the edge.”

“Yeah… that doesn’t sound very conducive to mental health.”

“No, it wasn’t.” For a moment Thor looks just like Loki did on that roof top, ancient, sad eyes that Tony doesn’t know how to respond to.

“But you must understand that my brother is not free from blame of what he has done. He struck his deal for an army willingly, he was not controlled like our friend Clint was.” Thor grimaces, the memory of Loki’s many crimes no doubt plaguing him that moment, “But I believe there is hope for my brother. He needs rest, I believe, time to untangle his thoughts and emotions, to put himself back together and decide what he wants for himself.”

Tony doesn’t know what to say to that, so he watches Mothki in its jar, its forelegs pressed against the glass where his fingers are.

“My brother gave that to you, Tony Stark,” Thor tells him, “For all intents and purposes that is his heart. Do not take such a thing lightly.”

Tony’s lost, and frankly the weight of this tiny moth in his hands scares him. Why would Loki give him his heart? Just because Tony said he wanted it? That’s…

“What should I do?”

“What does one usually do, when they are given someone’s heart?”

\--*--

He’s trapped, imprisoned, and the light is blinding. The walls around him are a perfect crisp white. There is no sound, no movement, no scents and the very air is filled with wards that kept his magic suppressed and tires him. He lacks even the energy to throw a chair at the wall; unable to dull the pristine white that was slowly chipping away at his already questionable sanity.

The misaligned pieces of himself bother him more here, before where there was once a feeling of unease, now an unending feeling of wrong.

This is when he first begins to lose himself. Forgetting where and when he is, seeing things that are not there. Sometimes he feels like he is falling, an endless sensation that makes him scream and writhe on the floor until guards come to quiet him. They chained him to the wall, or the bed, bind his hands so he cannot claw at them or himself.

Frigga visits him, he is sure, though his consciousness often plays tricks on him. He remembers blurred glimpses of her in tears, and her embrace. It was nice, although he was chained to the wall and could not return her comfort.

The immobility makes it worse, of course. He needs movement, clarity, darkness, anything as long as he escaped this white nothingness – this negative version of the void.

At last he does.

It’s probably the first time the sight of Thor had ever brought him relief. The bulk of his body in his cell casts a shadow over Loki and that reprieve from the onslaught of life almost makes him weep. Thor wastes no time; bundles him into a dark cloak, and runs them both to the Bifrost. Loki can barely walk, and his returning magic pains him more than it brings him relief, their escape much slower than it could have been. But they make it, and the whirling pull of the Bifrost is welcome after so much time in stillness.

They arrive on Midgard, the various sounds and lights breaking forth from the night a clear indication of their location. Thor tries to lead him further, using soft words and light touches, like Loki is a fragile thing that Thor doesn’t wish to break with his clumsy hands. But Loki’s mind has cleared enough, his magic returned and he is free. He shatters in Thor’s hands, the look on his not-brother’s face filled with horror, but it doesn’t matter.

In the sky he is free, wings gliding on the cool air and it matters not if he still feels that wrong inside him, the misalignment of his being.

He is free—

Loki grips the edge of the sink, his breathing harsh and stuttering. Weary green eyes look back at him from the mirror of his small white bathroom, not unlike the walls of his accursed cell.

He splashes water on his face, his neck. Does whatever he must to keep himself grounded, to stop himself from shattering and flying away like in his memory. He tries to shake the episode off, but his current situation keeps bringing that particular memory to the forefront of his mind.

The apartment has becoming stifling. Once comforting for its solitude and quiet from the constant buzz of the city, it has now become a prison. Loki is fond of his quarters on Midgard, but being confined to them is… unsettling. Each time he tries to leave, however, he is found by those strange soldiers with their ember glowing skin. All his usual haunts have become overrun with them, their flesh burning menacingly as they reach for him, with no words or preamble. They attack him on sight, try to pin him and burn him and it’s much too similar to the Chituari for Loki’s liking.

He fights them, of course, but they explode so easily and being disconnected from his heart has become a burden on his magic and his body both. He can’t teleport, he can’t shift his appearance, he can barely heal the burns those wretched creatures leave on him.

He sighs, moving away from the mirror where he had been working on healing one such wound. The shoulder is healed as best as it can be for now; the area still red and tender where a soldier had tried to grasp him. Sinking to the floor he leans against the tub, cool and soothing against his bare back.

It was foolish really, to give his heart away when he finally had it back in his hands. But perhaps letting Tony Stark have it was not so unwise. The midgardian possesses stunning intellect and wit. The moth was not harmed; Loki could feel it when he held its glass prison in his hand, the tether between them gone slack with their proximity. The moth seemed at peace where it was, and the man had been so earnest to keep it, as if he genuinely cared about the little moth in the glass jar.

Loki smiles. Tony Stark had wanted his heart, and Loki let him have it, with no guarantee of anything in return.

Perhaps Stark could take better care of it than Loki had.

\--*--

The jar stays on Tony’s desk, ever the silent companion to his many musings and ranting over this and that. It’s mostly about Loki lately. Why would Loki give him his literal heart? What an asshole, Tony thinks, tapping a pen against the jar absently.

Really, he can’t wrap his head around it; their entire exchange like a complex equation he can’t solve (and Tony’s really fucking good at math; and reading people for that matter). Loki had been looking for Mothki – his heart – this entire time and Tony should’ve returned it, whether he knew what it was or not.

But no, Tony wanted it. A desire to keep Mothki that ran deeper than his ‘Don’t touch my stuff’ mentality. Something deep inside of him telling him that the little dark moth was precious and something he never wanted to let go off. Now knowing that the thing was actually Loki’s literal blood pumping heart– well.

It irks him even more, because he hasn’t seen the god since he broke into his lab, tear stricken and angry. He hasn’t come back demanding Tony hand over the moth, hasn’t broken in and stolen the jar or anything. There haven’t even been any Shield sightings; Jarvis has combed through their data a hundred times now and still nothing. The last person to see Loki was Steve. He spotted him in central park, walking around in civilian clothing again, looking lost and jittery. A group of extremis attacked before Steve could reach him though, and Loki got away in the ensuing chaos.

Tony runs a hand through his hair where he sits at his desk. He wants to go looking for the god, for an explanation, or something, but the increase in extremis activity has kept the Avengers busy. Their attacks are sporadic, and Shield intel has yet to figure out their goal or where they came from.

There is one pattern Tony has seen however, that no one else seems to have noticed. He’s not entirely sure what it means, and not sure if he should bring it up. Other than the few around Stark Tower, the explosions and extremis sightings are all places where Loki was. The building where he was roof crawling, the alley, the park…. The café where they had lattes and whispered to each other was barely evacuated before an extremis blew the whole thing sky high the next day.

Tony groaned, closing his eyes after staring at the data for so long. What was their game? Was Loki working with them? Their plans, if there were any, seemed way to unpolished to be up to Loki’s standards.

“Sir, Captain Rogers would like to inform you that you are up for patrol with Mr. Odinson.” Jarvis intones, breaking Tony from his reverie.

“Alright,” his back gives a satisfying pop as he stretches, getting up to get into his only working suit. “Tell blondie #2 I’ll join him in a second.”

Seeing as no discernible pattern could be attributed to the extremis attacks, ‘patrol’ had basically become ‘walk around as bait until some extremis show up.’ Thor and Tony walk the perimeter of the building then pick a random direction to walk in, most bystanders now used to seeing the Avengers walking around. The sun has not yet set, the warm air of late summer and the constant buzz of New York fill the silence between them. It’s almost peaceful.

For all that it lasted ten minutes.

Three soldiers barrel into Thor, holding him to the ground. Tony fires at them, aiming for faces that could knock the men out or through the heart where it should kill them. More soldiers come at him, dog piling on him, trying to melt the suit.

He pushes some off, breathing heavy, thinks about releasing flares but there are probably civilians nearby-“Jarv we need back up!”

“Avengers and Shield alerted. Right knee join reaching critical heat levels.”

“SHIT-” He blasts a guy off his leg. The joint is melted together, not good. Tony might be able to fly but he won’t be able to walk.

A chorus of screams and screeching car wheels engulf the area as civilians try to get as far away from the battle as they can. The men and women that attack them look just like the fleeing innocent, making it difficult to discern who to attack; until their glowing skin and eyes give them away. They use their strength to throw anything they can, and those who can breathe fire at them like urban dragons, but most of all the use their sheer numbers to overwhelm the two avengers.

“Blasted spawn of Sutur!” Thor roars in pain as he pulls a soldier off himself, and Tony can see his hand is blackened and bleeding. Getting to his feet he swings Mjolnir at the men closest; flinging them across the street while Tony deals with the ones currently swarming him.

A man jumps on Thor’s back, clinging to his neck with an arm, the other he raises a syringe.

Tony blasts the man in the face, sending him flying.

“Look out!” Thor calls, and Tony has just enough time to turn and see a extremis at critical levels, entire body like a beacon for destruction before Thor leaps in front of him. All he knows heat and fire and their both knocked off their feet; Thor undoubtedly taking the full force of an explosion. Skidding across the pavement, armor screeching painfully against the cement.

Ears ringing and dust setting around them, Tony tries to set the world back on its axis. Jarvis lists off a damage report, but his minor injuries don’t account for why he can’t fucking breathe. The weight on his chest is enormous, and Tony tries pushing it off. Sitting up as much as he can, he finds Thor in his lap, covered in dust and blood, groaning softly in pain.

“Thor you idiot!” the god is in bad shape, parts of his armor are melted off, his torso a burnt and bleeding mess. Tony’s seen the guy bounce back before, but this?

“I’ve had worse…” the god moans, lifting Mjolnir. There’s a flash and Tony’s momentarily blind. Mjolnir blasts the few extremis left that try to encircle them and they fall to ground in a lifeless heap.

Tony gingerly moves from under Thor, “Think you’ll make it?”

“Aye,” the god says, spitting out some gravel, “It may take longer to heal though.”

Tony snorts, “Just be thankful you weren’t blown to smithereens.” dragging his useless armored leg he scans the bodies for life, “Thanks, by the way…”

Thor lets out a small laugh, “I couldn’t let the keeper of my brother’s heart perish could I?”

“Ugh, don’t put it like that-” Interestingly enough Jarvis picks up a pulse from syringe-guy. “Hey we got a live one finally.”

The man is groaning, his face like a burnt corpse slowly knitting itself back together from the repulsor blast.

“Hey buddy,” repulsors whir dangerously, “Mind telling me what the fuck your problem is?”

The guy’s eyes snap open and he tries to crawl away, as Thor walks up slowly, hand around his torso and trailing blood on the ground. He plunks Mjolnir on the guys chest, pinning him to the ground.

“No-” the guy wheezes, white of his eyes bulging from the burnt wreckage of his head “get it off me-”  
“Take small breaths,” Thor’s voice is deep with warning, “Or you may find yourself unable to take another one.”

The man quiets, eyes darting between Thor and Tony.

“So what was with the syringe?”

“It’s- they-” the soldier stops, “I can’t-”

“You will or we’ll leave Mjolnir there to suffocate you. He can’t melt it, can he, Thor?”

“Not even the lava pits of Muspelheim could hope to harm her. A blast could not move her either.” Thor says, voice grave.

The man’s breathing quickens, “Won’t let us, r-regulate.” He gasps, “They said we n-needed a sample. To complete the s-serum.”

“A sample?” Tony prompts.

“A g-god sample.”

Thor steps closer, looming over the man, “You know more.”

The man’s skin starts to glow worryingly, tell-tale signs of an impending explosion, “The scientists said e-either would work. The other few sh-should be trying the other one now.”

Thor and Tony’e eyes meet, the same name playing in their heads.

Loki.

They’ve been chasing Loki this entire time. Everywhere he goes and they had no idea.

“What scientists?” his heart races, now that puzzle pieces are at last falling into place, “Where did the others head to?!”

“I don’t know!!” The man’s skin intensives it’s burning light in warning, ready to blow any second.

“Shit, Thor we gotta move-“

“Move aside,” Natasha says, stepping between them calmly. She crouches and deftly stabs the extremis soldier with a needle to his neck. The man screams briefly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before he stills, skin fading backing to normal. “Shield’s been developing an extremis tranquilizer. He won’t blow anytime soon.”

Tony spots the Sheild van. Agents are pouring out, gathering dead extremis remains and helping bystanders, moving in quick efficient movements. Most of the civilians got away in time, but many were sporting injuries and shaken faces. The pleasant afternoon street’s now a wreckage of debris, blood and charred remains.  
Thor groans, holding his side tighter as he removes Mjolnir from the man, under his breath he says, “Tony…”

“I know. You’re in bad shape.” Jarvis can repair a simple joint malfunction quickly, in the mean time he needs to find Lok. It took both Tony and Thor to deal with these guys, and neither got out unscathed. Loki by himself, his mind flitting away from him as it was… “Widow, make sure Thor gets medical. I’ll meet you back at the Tower.”

“Stark, wait-”

But he’s already in the sky, flying a bit crooked and his mind trying to figure out how to find Loki.

\--*--

The suit strips from him, the walkway already beginning repairs on the melted knee joint.

He runs to the jar, hoping his plan will work.

He opens the lid and sets Mothki free.

\--*--

Tony chases the moth and it feels like a dream, running through the streets of New York by foot, chest heaving, side cramping, with nothing but a black moth to lead the way. He’s almost hit by a car more times then he can count, but he doesn’t care, his eyes locked onto the moth and his mind a constant repetition of Loki Loki Loki-

They reach third avenue, Tony’s surprised he hadn’t lost sight of the moth, but every time he almost did, it came flying in front of his face to lead the way again. They stop at an apartment building and the moth flies upwards out of Tony’s reach towards an open window. He is almost there when there is a flash, and Tony doesn’t even have time realize he’s too late before the world is tilted on its axis. The explosion was blinding, and Tony’s vision goes white; he was thrown back hard, ears ringing and debris falling around him.

When his vision returns, his mind is still a dizzying mantra of Loki. Too late, he thinks, Loki might be dead, he might never had a chance too-

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and opens them again. He calms his mind, pushing the fear and the guilt down long enough so he can catalogue the situation.

One of the windows on the top floor is spewing smoke, flames licking the outside, and people are pouring out of the buildings front, panic screams and cries filling the air along with all the smoke. Slowly, he gets back on his feet, entire body protesting, and searches for Mothki through the crowd of people. He finds the moth a few feet away from him, its wings giving a pathetic twitch as he scoops it up- barely in time it save it from getting trampled

He pushes his way into the building, shoving people with his elbows; protecting the moth at his chest. It hasn’t moved in awhile and it’s cold, like a snowflake resting against his palm.

He reaches the source of the explosion; an apartment with its door blown off and smoke spewing out, and Mothki’s wings give a small beat. Pulling his shirt over his mouth he makes his way in, stepping over ashes and debris. The heat is overwhelming despite there not being many flames; his eyes streaming from the smoke. Tony scans the room for any signs of life, trying not to look too close at the pieces of burnt flesh scattered among the debris. There’s a slumped figure on the floor near the window, a shadow among the smoke and fading sunlight. He jumps over the remains of a coffee table, nearly breaking his ankle as he makes his way through what was once most likely Loki’s living room. He kneels down.

Loki.

His chest is moving, barely, taking in small labored breaths. His dark hair is dusted with ash and matted with blood where he leans against the wall. Burned hands grip a nasty chunk of wood lodged into his side, blood spilling between his finger tips.

Distantly, Tony hears Jarvis in his ear, telling him the suit is repaired, but all he can focus on is Loki Loki Loki.

He lets his shirt fall from his face and places his empty hand on Loki’s shoulder, “Loki, Loki wake up.” Tony coughs, the smoke agitating is throat. “It’s time to go, reindeer games.”

Loki’s eyes open slightly, his voice hoarse and wet sounding, “…Tony?” He brings a bloody palm to Tony’s cheek, as if to make sure he was real.

“Hey, hey– yeah, it’s me. Heh, you said my first name.” Tony smiles a bit and Loki does the same, “Can you heal yourself? We need to get out of here before the firefighters burst in.” The wail of sirens approaching grows and he can’t imagine Shield being far behind, especially if any of the people down there recognized him and tweeted about it or something.

The god’s smile falls as his eyes begin to shut; Tony shakes him, “Loki! Please-”

“I can’t…” voice a whisper, eyes half closed.

“Heal yourself? Why-”

But Tony knows why.

“Here,” he holds out the moth, unmoving in his palm, “I brought it back to you.”

But Loki shakes his head, hand gripping a bit tighter to Tony’s face in desperation, “I wanted you to have it…”

“This isn’t the time for that!! Just take it, please.”

“You don’t want it….” His voice is so hurt, so weak, Tony can’t stand it. Glossy green eyes disappear behind eyelids, his hand falling from Tony’s face.

“No! I do-” Tony catches Loki’s bloody hand in his, squeezing it tight, “I want it... I just-” Tony doesn’t know what to do. Loki’s going to die because Tony–because Tony was selfish.

Placing the moth on Loki’s chest, he takes both of his hands in his own and places them over it, willing the moth to merge back into Loki on its own. But nothing happens; moments pass and the god’s body remains still; eyes closed and chest unmoving without breath.

His forehead comes to rests against Loki’s in defeat; tears falling on an unresponsive face. This isn’t what he wanted. This isn’t why he kept the moth. In some part of his mind he thinks maybe he wanted a reason for Loki to come back, a reason to see him.

“I just, I want you.” he whispers, “I want you alive, you idiot… all of you…alive…. Please.”

There is movement beneath his palms, a twitch barely felt. Brown eyes meet green before both are [blinded by light.](http://oi39.tinypic.com/30w5ueu.jpg) He feels the press of lips against his own, and the burning room disappears for a moment, and everything is just this simple press of lips. The kiss starts gentle and unsure, but swiftly it turns possessive, wanting, and Tony reciprocates eagerly.

They break apart and Tony hears Loki grunt in pain. Blinking away the spots from his vision, he sees Loki wrenching the wood from his side. Blood spills from the wound, but Loki covers it quickly, green light shining between his fingers, face contorted with pain and concentration.

He lets out a breath, “I’ve done what I can, for now,” he says, giving a weak smile, and Tony’s heart skips. “I can’t teleport us out,” The god braces an arm against the wall to stand, but stumbles before he can take a step. “…and I’m afraid I can’t walk.”

Tony helps steady him, “You okay?”

“I’m still recovering from– from the absence.” His words stutter as they leave his mouth, still attempting to catch his breath. “It feels strange… Like a fluttering in my chest.”  
“Is that… Is that bad? Did I mess up?” Tony says anxiously. What if he caused permanent damage?

But Loki shakes his head, “No. It’s… a nice sensation.”

Tony can’t help but smile.

He moves to have Loki lean on him, and together they stand in Loki’s wrecked apartment. Outside the firefighters just pulled up and Tony thinks he sees a Shield vehicle out there, but he’s not worried. He shoots Loki a cheeky grin, “Don’t worry babe.” He winks at Loki, who raises an eyebrow at the nickname, while his body goes through the motions to call his armor, “I got this.”

They burst out of the building and shoot into the sky before the firefighters have time to get out of their trucks. Tony keeps his speed low, and grips Loki to him tightly. Together they cross the sky not unlike a shooting star, a stream of light against the golden hues of sunset. Tony hasn’t felt this free in a long time.

Loki laughs, and whispers to Tony, barely audible above the noise of flight, “This is the first time I’ve flown, without wings.”

\--*--

Thor is ecstatic when they come back, face beaming at them as he stands on the roof with his chest bandaged, wounds from earlier probably already healed. In fact, he’s the only happy face when they descend onto the landing platform of Stark Tower, Clint has his arrow notched and Steve has his disapproving face, Natasha stands with her arms crossed and her face neutral. Tony gives them a little wave.

“Brother! Tony!” Thor opens his arms wide as he approaches them, oblivious to their team mates glaring and obviously going in for a hug.

Loki glares at Thor and snuggles closer into Tony, who is enjoying the closeness and the fact that the suit actually makes him taller than Loki. Thor, undeterred, simply envelops both of them in his arms, lifting them both off the ground and squishing Loki into his chest.

“Damnit- Thor-!” Loki tries to struggle, arms and legs thrashing, before he hisses in pain. Probably having aggravated his injury from the movement, he resignedly goes still. Tony holds him a bit tighter.

Natasha walks up as Thor is putting them down, face calm and expressionless as usual. “I see you caught Loki.”

“Er, yeah.” Tony says, conscious of his arms still around Loki, but not bringing himself to care enough to move them. If he was honest, he wasn’t really sure what they were going to do when they got back to the tower, certain Thor would back them up with whatever.

“While you were out, we went to the extremis base.” She shrugs a shoulder, “There weren’t many there, but we took care of it. We believe the ones in charge got away though.”

“Yeah. Thanks for the help.” Clint says, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

Tony ignores him, “Did you make sure to destroy all their research?”

“Yes Tony,” Bruce steps onto the roof, “We made sure.”

“Good.”

Loki grips Tony a little tighter when Bruce walks out, and their little rooftop party falls into a tense silence

“Thor, Tony,” Steve speaks up, and the tone he uses gives Tony pause. It’s his persuasive voice, one that pleads for you to listen to reason. Not unlike the one he used when Loki was up on a different roof. “It’s time to take Loki back to Asgard.”

His body tenses, caught off guard by Steves words.

“What-”

“Tony.” Natasha’s eyes are ice, her voice unyielding, “These orders are from both Shield and Asgard. Loki has to go back.”

Clint pulls his arrow back just a bit.

He should have known. He did know. Getting Loki back to Asgard was their number one priority. But so soon?

There hasn’t been enough time. Tony doesn’t even know what to think, what to do. What does he want with Loki? Why does he want him to stay so badly? The sum of their time together is so small. Not counting his defenestration, they’ve only shared a kiss, a few conversations, and tiny black moth in a jar.

No, Tony thinks, his chest constricting painfully. It’s been more than that.

So, Tony schools his features, his demeanor morphing into what he reserves for board meetings and press conferences, “Guys, we just got here, can’t we break out some booze and celebrate our win? I still owe the guy a drink-”

“I’m afraid they’re right,” Thor interrupts, blue eyes filled with a sadness that Tony doesn’t want to see.

“Thor-”

“My brother is still unwell.”

The words jolt Tony. Loki is fine-

But he isn’t.

The god in his arms is shaking. Loki’s eyes wide and faraway, his grip on Tony’s armor so tight he’s nearly denting it.

“Loki? Hey-”

But Loki just whispers, like he can’t hear him, over and over again, “I don’t want to fall.” Tony shivers. Falling…

“He was fine… I thought-”

He shakes his head, “I’m afraid, my friend,” Thor says, blue eyes filled with pity, “This is not something so easily healed.”

His heart weighs heavy in his chest, guilt and sadness swirling together.

“If he is brought back home, the healers can help him, he will recover.”

Then Loki speaks, surprising them both, “You know nothing Thor.” He hisses voice dripping with scorn, “Do you really think bringing me back to Asgard will help me? Were you not the one who stole me from there in the first place?”

The other Avengers startle at that, looking at Thor with suspicion.

“Aye, I did.” Thor says, ignoring the others, “But mother will not allow you to be locked in that room again, and neither shall I.” He puts a hand on Loki’s shoulder pleadingly, “Please, brother…”

Loki wrestles out of his brother’s grip as well as Tony’s. “No! I will not go there again, I can’t-”

“Brother, the world tree has poisoned you; the void has left its traces in your mind. You cannot find help on Midgard, and you can not heal yourself.” Loki tries to interrupt, but Thor speaks over him, “No, if you could you would not be in this state. Please.”

It makes sense to Tony, it does, no matter how much he doesn’t want to admit it. Loki was messed up before the whole Mothki thing; and Tony’s own fall through space, even as short as it was, had left scars on Tony. Loki’s had lasted much longer, and he fell much farther. He didn’t want Loki to leave, but…

Loki’s shoulders sag, defeated. He looks to Tony, eyes searching, “Tony…”

He swallows, “I…” he doesn’t know what to say, the team is there watching them and Loki has to leave and Tony still isn’t even sure what this thing between him and Loki is, what it means- “Wait, just a second, before you leave, I have something for you.”

Loki looks surprised, and the team even more so as, he has the suit removed from him and they all watch silently as he pushes past them into the Tower. It doesn’t take long for him to find it- resting on a side table in his den. Quickly he removes it from its glass case and runs back onto the roof.

“Here,” he pushes it into Loki’s hands, hoping the others won’t see what it is. It’s a risk that this might be a really bad idea, but Tony doesn’t really care. “Keep it safe, okay?”

Loki looks at the small device in his hands, it’s beaten up, the metal scratched and tarnished; it’s glow weak and dim. Loki reads the inscription under his breath, “…Proof that Tony stark has a heart.” Shocked, wide green eyes find his.

“This…”

Tony smiles a little, “You said you wanted it, right?”

Slowly, Loki smiles, and a tear runs down his cheek, “Yes. Thank you.”

They linger, no words able to express what they don’t need to say.

At last, Loki turns to Thor.

“I’m ready.”

Thor nods and calls out Heimdall. The Avengers back away, as the swirling cacophony of light breaches the sky. With one final green-eyed gaze, the gods are pulled away from earth; a piece of Tony’s heart with them.

Tony watches the sky, the others having long since moved back inside. As the sky turns from gold to black and dusted with stars, his mind wanders, running the calculations of the Bifrost and the gamble that he might see Loki again. The thoughts aren't very encouraging. But they don’t matter really, because any equation with Loki is bound to be rigged somehow.

So he turns his mind to other things, to moths, fire and kisses...

…and the simple exchange of hearts.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a huuuge thank you to my artist/beta [Tam](http://tamflakes.tumblr.com/)!  
> Your advice and encouragement helped me so much. Also, your art is gorgeous and I am unworthy ;u; I really couldn't have done this without you ♥  
> Also big thanks to Ritchie for keeping me on track and pestering me when I wasn't working, and Shorty who squealed over my idea. Also a big thank you to Suchan for thinking I was cool.
> 
> This was my first ever bang fic and actually my first time writing a fic of this size, I learned a lot and it's been a lot of fun.  
> Thank you for reading!


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